Camelot The Gypsy
by CoralineGrace
Summary: We all know the tale of Lady Guinevere, Lancelot and King Arthur. But have you been told the tale of Natalya?


[Note; I have no idea where to put this, so sorry if this is in the wrong place! I only own what I have written.]

CAMELOT

The Gypsy

(Based on various songs including Sister Gypsy by Blackmore's Night and Lily Maid by Heather Dale)

_It was the stories by the fire, uttered in hushed tones, by the generations. It was the memory of her, running through the thoughts of ancient ones. It was the dance and laughter that came from her presence, filling the hearts of the people up with warmth and cheer. She was a whirlwind of fire and passion, sadness and betrayal, joy and love. All who encountered her were awed, and when the stars came out from their slumber, it was her stories that made the fiery flames dance to her voice. Her feet carried her in such dances unbeknownst to us, a series of twirls and steps. And when she smiled, oh her smile, it made the flowers grow faster and the sun a bit warmer. She was the Gypsy Natalya, forever gone now but her memory remains like a shooting star in the sky…_

The black velvet sky which held the moon reflected in her eyes as she danced 'round the fire in a lively dance. Her pale wispy hair twirled along with her, and the jangles that decorated her skirt chimed to the tune. She was one of three, the other two keeping pace with her evenly. Their laughter filled the night with a harmony, encouraging the watchers to get up and join them. T'was the way of the Gypsy's. Work by day and celebration by night. Natalya and her sisters were the finest dancers to be found all round Camelot, though the royals were unaware. Tonight was one of many that showed the proof of their talent, firelight glistening from the tanned skin and lighting up their eyes with yellow and orange. The men and boys quickened and easily changed the tune to something faster and the gypsy sisters dance steps became so erotic and complex, the elders had no choice but to back down and leave the moon's rays to spotlight the three. They were wild, they were free.

All changed however. Natalya was off alone in the wood, her duty for the day being to gather the herbs that grew near the village line. She enjoyed this task, and did it with vigor, excited to watch the commoner's life. It was unknown to the Gypsy's, whose life consisted of travel and games. Every so often, a tall person of elegance would pass in the dusty paths, noses in the air and a pinkie out. Had Natalya's sisters been there, they would have play-acted the people they saw, but she was alone. Her mind captured the moment to tell her sisters later. Though she was a young woman just shy of 16, her life was a bundle of folly and merriment. Until she felt that hand upon her shoulder. The hand that would change lives, change souls. The time was now for a new path to be carved for young Natalya.

"Are you a gypsy?" The handsome man questioned Natalya, coming up behind her and gripping her shoulder before she could run. She said nothing, only stared with round gray eyes. She was struck dumb, the man's shoulder length hair so glossy chocolate brown, his eyes dark and bright. His accent was bread with that of the language of France, assuming he was a foreigner. Words were unable to form on her tongue.  
>"I am Lancelot. Knight of the table round and right-hand to the great King Arthur. His maiden seeks amusement, the kind unable to be sought in a village. Pray tell me, child, is thee a gypsy?"<p>

"A gypsy I am, lord!" Natalya managed to get out, her tones soft and willowy. She ducked her head at him in respect. "But a talent I wouldn't know."

"Can you come with me, child? Lady Guinevere should be quite pleased with my find, as would King Arthur. You're a slight knot shabby, but soon to be fixed. A beauty may lurk beneath yet!" The knight continued on, already steering her towards the village. Natalya, her mind over-whelmed, could not process what was happening as she followed him dumbly. His voice was sure and confident, yet soothing to the ear. Upon a horse, tall and magnificent, he placed her. Off they cantered, towards the looming castle of stone and wood up ahead.

It wasn't until their destination arrived and till she was amidst fancy and folly alike that her mind managed to catch up with the events of which had taken place. Stolen from her home and family in the woods, the warm fire and – May mother forgive! – Her herb basket!

"When may I be permitted to leave?" Natalya inquired the maid that was at her aid for the current. No answer came to her ears, and she fell back into her stunned silence. Velvet robes were wrapped around her freshly cleaned garments and her hair was brushed till it nearly glimmered. Crowns of lilies were woven between the strands, eliminating her bright eyes. She was lead to a room, accented with vaulted ceilings and a golden chandelier. The center of the room was taken up with glorious chairs, upholstered in silk and beads. Natalya's heart sped at the sight of Lancelot, the knight who delivered her to the palace. He regarded her with a hidden expression; on his right was a beautiful maiden. Her dress was a rich purple with many a layer, hair pulled into the loveliest braid ever wound. Eyes were alive and kind, full of youth and adventure. The man seated next to her, just as royal, had a sense of wisdom and age to him. His hair was beginning to gray at the front, but when he smiled he abandoned 10 years. Natalya made her march to the front of them and kneeled, rising to look at only Lancelot.

"Good sir, I now present myself before you. With velvet robes and lilies in my hair. I only pray that you will find me fair," She spoke to him, ignoring the flutter of her heart. He dipped his head to her, a sign of acknowledgment, but nothing more. For three terrifying seconds, Natalya stood alone, the eyes of three royal figures trained solely upon her. Was then, Lady Guinevere rose and began towards her.

"What is your name, child of mine, and can you sing or dance?" She asked kindly, reaching out to touch Natalya's shoulder. Her eyes were a blue, a blue so clear it looked almost glassy.  
>"Natalya is what I may be called, my lady," The gypsy girl answered softly, kneeling again. "Dance I can do, as it's a gypsy's greatest gift."<p>

"Show me, sing for me a song of the gypsy kind," Guinevere told the girl, descending the steps to her chair once more and giving a smile at Natalya. With her heart in her throat, Natalya began to hum the beginning notes of a familiar song.

"The valley green, was so serene, in the middle ran a stream… So blue. A maiden fair, in despair, once had met her true love there and she told him. She would say… Promise me, when you see, a white rose you'll think of me," She sung, her voice clear and strong.

"I will be, your ghost of a rose…" Natalya finished the song, and took in a breath. Her eyes had been trained on the Queen the whole song, and now a smile once more touched her lips.  
>"Excellent, my young girl, truly excellent," Guinevere said, the smile creeping into her voice. "Lancelot! Oh Lance, you have found me a prize. This child is supreme. I owe you a debt and am eternally grateful."<p>

Was then Natalya realized her fate. She was to stay as an object of amusement for the great Queen and her King. Brought in by the lead knight as a gift. She did protest. She did not try to run. She adapted to the royal life, continuing to dance and sing in her old gypsy ways. Natalya, taken from everything she knew. The lost gypsy, the lost one who would carry a story through the generations. But of this, she knew not.


End file.
